


Siren

by MsChanandlerBong



Category: Stella Glow
Genre: F/M, I think of this as happening in chapter 10, Soliloquy, Spoilers, Third Person Pronouns Only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 05:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChanandlerBong/pseuds/MsChanandlerBong
Summary: Alto considers his relation to Sakuya.





	Siren

**Author's Note:**

> woooww, there are so many talented writers on this tag!!!! I thought no one cared about this game, but...I’m up for a stiff competition eheh!
> 
> reading through the fics here made me want to write something new, but I was a little busy with a move...so here’s something pretty short! I basically only used third person pronouns (no names) as an attempt at stylizing it to be sort of, stream of conscious-like. I don’t know if I did it well, but, I don’t think it hurts the reading! you already know who it’s about, right? that’s everyone in this!
> 
> consider this an apology letter to sakuya..poor thing! I’m proud of my other fic here, but I don’t just want her to suffer!!! and, well, this was supposed to be done by valentine’s day, and I’m super sorry I didn’t get it done in time...happy presidents’ day everyone ? eheheh
> 
> as for music I listened to the ponyo soundtrack while writing this...no one song, but if I had to pick one, maybe empty bucket would work best ? I like that one a lot !
> 
> sorry for the super super long foreword!! let’s get on with the reading!

He’d follow her anywhere.

Maybe, at first, it was just because he felt for her. She was pulled in every direction, sculpted by thousands of hands into what each wanted her to be; maybe he thought it was her right to do some pulling now.

She was a siren call to him, where he willingly followed only to his harm. Time and time again, he was left smashed upon her rocky derisions, treading doubt. But he was drawn to her in perpetuum.

He’d never been captivated by beauty alone. He thought himself too simple to appreciate it. That wasn’t why she had bewitched him; not that of her body or voice, and perhaps not even her heart.

Maybe it was because her words held such venom, piercing in their hypodermics. They needled their way into his veins, running their toxicity straight to the brain. But they gave him that special sort of rush, one which ran high on _her_. And instead of fading away, the rush grew stronger every time, the needles likewise growing duller.

And like a junkie, he kept crawling back to her.

_Was that what bound them? Was he really that crude?_

No, it was something else. Everything she said was bitter and unpleasant, but the addiction was in that hint of sweetness. The pang of affection amidst the smoke and mirrors.

She remained up on her precipice, her song ringing out to the countless hordes below. He was nothing but one of them, sailing among the sea of no ones, but her voice entranced him, made him dare. She alone could drive him to scale the cliffs that stood between them, and he always would, even when she led him through harm.

That was the proof the pain wasn’t what kept him coming. It stung, but every scratch, bruise, and wound vanished under her attention. He was so happy just to be considered a friend. When she scoffed and treated him roughly, it meant she didn’t feel like she had to act anymore. Every cruel word to him was a confirmation that he was special, that her years of discomfort could be mitigated in his presence.

And it was a relief she gave back to him. Few people could inspire the feeling of ease and security within him that she did. Maybe it was because she held nothing back herself, but he knew he didn’t have to feign anything for her. He didn’t need to be polite, to be overly humble, just...her friend.

It wasn’t out of thoughtlessness or neglect, but people always put their expectations on him; they were small, but they piled up, weighing him down, crushing the air out of him. He didn’t resent anyone for it, as he offered his support in the first place, but—that she understood the feeling, that she treated him like she would her other friends, was what was so special. Being close to her was all that gave him room to breathe.

And the closer he got to her, the more the distance ached. She was everyone’s, just like he was, and he was lucky to receive any attention from her at all. It was arrogant and clingy of him to assume that he alone had anything special to link himself to her beyond his powers.

Without his powers, he’d never have meet her. Without Elcrest, he’d never have met her. He never would’ve befriended her, been there to help her, save her—nothing. She owed her change in fate to the Conductor, not him. He was an accessory, to it all; a forgery. He had no one self, no unique identity, just a mistake of a copy.

But her voice still called to him. And he still followed.

He was one stitch in a swath of her victims, those ensnared by her, stuck to hopelessly smash into walls again and again without ever reaching her. All that greeted him was the grit of her words and the agony of being paradoxically close. And yet he hoped. He hoped, above all, that she could see him among the waves of others.

He stood among crowds of men who may as well have been his carbon copies, but—he was the one she looked at. He was the one she spoke to, who she had spent so much time with. out of all of them, he was hers; that was all he dared to dream of.

Maybe that was what made him unique: her. That he got to share in her days, her experiences, her feelings, that _she_ changed him and made him like no other. Just being with her...made him different, day by day, slowly but surely. Every place they touched was stained with her imprint, every word she spoke scrawled into his mind. She’d left her mark all over his heart, and if nothing else, he’d never be rid of it—could it possibly be the case for her as well?

_Could he accept the allowance of being her satellite for nothing but that?_

Her face rushed through his mind; the slight wrinkle of her nose when she was annoyed, the light in her eyes when she performed, the way she smiled when she made a resolution...

All of him wanted to say that yes, he could, that she was special to him in all the world, so he was too...but things didn’t work that simply.

All he could do was trail after her, and hope with all his heart.

There weren’t many of a siren’s thralls that came back endlessly no matter the tests she put them through.

And even less that she would come to herself, smiling with all the warmth and light to melt the pain away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading !!! <3 I know it doesn’t seem like much, but I did put work into this with the word choice and all that! really, I wanted to make clear the feeling of devotion, and how devoting time to someone changes things...but I didn’t want it to drag eheh
> 
> I guess maybe you could think of this as suuuuuper long form poetry ?? anyway, thanks for giving it a read! if you have any criticisms or anything to say, I’d be very happy to hear it !!!


End file.
